


The question

by alinewrites



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M, Post Gauda Prime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6343678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinewrites/pseuds/alinewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon's body and mind are betraying him... Just when Blake asks him a question...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The question

Thunder roared in the distance. Avon looked up and a flash of lightning seemed to tear the sky open just over the hills. Near enough, he thought, and sighed in exasperation. The wet heat had already forced him to take off his jacket and now he would be soaked. "I hate Earth," he thought. "And open spaces."

Looking around he saw no reachable shelter. He would have to walk back under the pouring rain. Ten years ago, he would not have minded walking, heedless of the heat and the rain and the storm. He would probably have run along the chaotic path across the sand dunes all the way back to the road where he had left his shuttle. But he was ten years older, broken and bone weary. Some wounds, those of the body as well as those of the mind, refused to heal. After the victory, when he had refused to work with Blake or anyone in the new government, the rumour had chalked it up to his infamous aloofness, independence, pride, contempt of the new system. How many were they to know that his refusal had been mainly motivated by the irreparable damages done to his mind and body? Blake knew: he had read the medical reports while Avon was unconscious; he had made the choice – the wrong one - refusing to let Avon die, refusing to unplug the systems that kept him alive. Vila and Tarrant were aware that something was wrong with Avon – but Avon kept clear of them, retreating in a haughty silence when he could not avoid meeting them. Some others had witnessed his sudden memory losses, his physical malaises, panic attacks: those had incurred Avon's anger and would not dare mention it. Otherwise he was still Avon, ambiguous and dark, who mostly inspired fear and suspiscion. 

Sometimes death felt more appealing than this miserable life.

The second crash of thunder sounded much closer, startling Avon out of his thoughts. He might as well sit down here under the rain and wait for it to stop, he thought. But the prospect made him queasy. From where he was standing he could see the waves swell and crash on the beach below; above him the sky was darknening, heavy clouds gathering. Another flash of lightning struck much too near for comfort. He could not stay; He would walk back, no matter how painful it might prove to be. He had made up his mind and started to limp down the path, forcing himself to ignore the threatening growl of thunder, the heavy drops of warm rain showering him, soaking him until his shirt and trousers were clinging to his sweaty skin, his hair dripping wet, drops catching in his eyelashes, blinding him. He walked down some more, cursing his own stupidity at taking such a walk to begin with. The sight of someone running up the path towards him stopped him short. Ah, Blake had sent one of his minions, he thought, to bring his reckless companion back home. The implied meaning of Blake's decision angered him. I have become too weak and impotent to take care of myself and Blake knows. He was about to welcome his saviour with some cutting words when he realized that the man was indeed Blake. The beloved President of the Terran Republic had managed to abstract some precious minutes from his time-consuming duties to come to his rescue. Avon sighed. Maybe he should feel flattered. 

"I thought I would find you here," Blake said, a little breathless. "I saw your vehicle down on the road. I did not quite anticipate the storm."

Liar, Avon thought. It took you five minutes to fly here and the storm probably started fifteen minutes ago over the city. "What do you want?" he asked dryly.

Blake looked around. "Do you think we can find some shelter here?"

Avon sighed. "I don't know. I'd rather walk." Now that you are here, keeping the fear at bay it doesn't feel so impossible. God, how pathetic is that.

"Fine. You are already soaked, anyway," Blake said, glancing at him. "And so am I."

They walked together, Blake slackening his pace but not trying to help when Avon started to limp badly. Only when he thought that Avon would not be able to take a single more step did Blake stop. "I think we should sit under the edge of this rock until the worst of the rain has stopped. It makes a nice shelter, wide enough for two," he said, pointing at a small cave digged in the rock face on the left side of the path.

Although he hated himself for it, Avon welcomed the offer. Once they were sitting on the bare ground, rain and thunder roaring around them, Blake said, "I came to ask you something."

Avon was busy finding a comfortable position; pain was shooting through his right leg, the one that had been shattered as well as his right shoulder and his left hip - not to mention his skull- by the firing during the nightmare on Gauda Prime. "Really? Please do ask then. "

The thunder exploded above them like a bomb and Avon shivered. 

"It is about this law the Parliament just voted," he said. "I think we should set an example; lead the way"

Avon's mind went blank. A law? What kind of law was Blake referring to? 

"I am talking about the same-sex marriage law." Avon raised an eyebrow and Blake sighed. "Men can marry men and so on."

Avon glared at him. "I had somehow caught the meaning of 'same sex marriage'."

"Sorry."

"What I don't understand is why..." Avon said and shut up. For a minute it was only the rain and the thunder and the lightning that now seemed to encircle them, and the wet clothes that made him shiver, and his damp hair that kept falling in his eyes and the realization of what Blake was asking him. "You don't mean it," he said, keeping his voice level.

"I have waited and waited until I found the right moment. A moment where you would be... approachable..." Blake said, and Avon would have laughed at that. The way Blake treated him in bed, he would have thought himself very approachable. "But since you won't ever ask for more, or even admit that there is something more than sex between us..."

"Is there really?" Avon asked.

"I thought I would propose now. Marry me."

The pain in Avon's knee relented somehow. He felt Blake scoot closer; a hand slid around his waist. He wanted to push it away but Blake's warmth against his wet skin felt good.

"Say you will, Avon."

"I will be a burden, Blake. You know I will."

Blake shook his head. "Never that. You are many things, but not a burden. Besides..." He pushed Avon back and proceeded to unbutton the soaked shirt, finally tearing it apart in his impatience to run his fingers all over the wet scarred chest, until Avon's breathing became erratic. "I want you by my side always. Only misunderstandings kept us apart."

Blake's warm hands, his lips, his teeth distracted Avon. 

"Misunderstandings almost killed you," he said, turning away from the kiss. "I almost killed you. This is not the best grounds for a marriage."

Blake growled against his neck. "Stop being so contrary. I love you. You love me, in your own way. Marry me."

Avon's shirt was pulled away, his trousers yanked down; he was flipped over carefully and parted and kissed and caressed the way Blake knew he wanted to be and since he was still cold and wet and shivery, Blake took off his own shirt to rub him down until his skin was warm and tingling.

"I hope you have some change of clothes in your shuttle, Blake. I don't think that walking back half-naked will improve our reputation."

Blake laughed; the sound was heavy and loud like the now receding thunder. He pushed his fingers in Avon's mouth and Avon sucked on them until they were very wet, and braced himself for the pain to come. Blake fucked him with two fingers before entering him carelessly. Avon would have thanked him for that, at least Blake did not feel like Avon was completely disabled, did not think like he had to cocoon him. That way Avon could nurse the comforting illusion he was still a match for Blake's strength. When Blake came, though, the violence of his last thrust and the shattering force of his own pleasure made Avon's mind go blank – who he was, where they were and when... All that was left was the knowledge that this reassuring strong embrace was Blake's and that Avon was safe there.

"Say you will," Blake said roughly, pressing a panting Avon against him.

What was he talking about? Avon had no idea. He remembered a question Blake had asked mere minutes ago, a tricky one, one Avon had not wanted to answer, one that had sounded so very tempting – and absurd. What the question had been Avon did not remember. Not that he was going to admit it, of course. "I'll think about it," he said.

Blake shrugged. "Will you?"

"I just said so," Avon said haughtily and managed to straighten his clothing, his mind still racing to drag the memory out of his mind. 

Blake seemed to believe him. "I will take you up on that," he said, holding out a hand to help Avon up and stepping back at the angry glare he received. 

Avon pulled his jacket on, discarding the ruined shirt – the jacket was wet but decent at least. Taking a deep breath he pushed the fear away. He would remember later; probably in the middle of the night, securely lying in Blake's bed, since Blake - as the hopless romantic he was- would insist to sleep with him and probably hold him through the night. Yes. The memory would come back. Then he would think of an answer.

In the distance, a last roar signalled that the storm was heading away. Now if Avon walked slowly enough he would manage to reach the shuttle without stopping for a break, force his damaged body to cooperate. And Blake would have no real idea of the depths of Avon's misery. He smiled and started to walk,satisfied with himself.


End file.
